' ' ' ' ' ' 'spies Are Us Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Mingling amongst
guests

we telegraph
our inner feelings

across a crowed
room

enchanted with each
other

the lift of an eyebrow
a toss of curls

speaking to each
other exclusively

in telegraphese.

'Sexy! ' - stop.

'Oh...please! ' - stop.

'Oh stop! ' - stop.

'Oh don't stop! ' - stop.

touching each other
telepathetically.

At last we come
back to one

another

in the centre
of the room

our lips
sealing with desire

what we have
already siad

without saying
anything

smuggling little touches
across the borders

of decorum
& good taste

like spies
stealing secrets

& making good
our escape.